


Of Punches and Betrayals

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), civil war - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Hurt Tony Stark, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 20:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19303081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Civil War, Tony and Steve meet somewhere in the middle, out of needs more than anything else.





	Of Punches and Betrayals

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Tumblr

The place reek of everything nasty and betrayal. Tony snorts at the irony of it all.

**12B, 3 rd floor, room 5**

It’s in middle of nowhere. The entire building yells _illegal! Scoundrels! Filth!_

 

 

“I expected something else.” He admits. Voice a haunting whisper that set the wiry dust of fine hairs beneath his mouth in motion. His tongue darts out for a taste, his blood curdling in his veins as salt dilutes in his mouth. “Bold of me to expect anything from you at all.”

His toes curl inward when he feels the pressure on his lower back, pulling him in, flush against naked skin. Patchy stickiness disgusts him as much as the slippery slide of still wet sweat punches arousal in his lower gut. There’s a soft nudge against his inner thigh where his right leg bends, wrapped around another pair of legs, spread carelessly wide. Tony slides his own hand down from where it rests against the hard plane of abdominal muscles, relishing the feel of coarser hair against his calloused palm and fingers, south and south downward until he cups a set of heavy balls, eliciting a low groan from the man beneath him.

He lets his hand do its thing, sliding up and down, wrapping around, clenching, cupping and simply feeling the bead of precum, wet and he can remember how it tastes on his tongue if he just closes his eyes for a second.

“Tony.”

“Hmmm.” He hums, low in his throat, tongue darting out as he rolls his head until his teeth catches the nub of a pink nipple, biting and pulling but never too hard. Oh, and he loves.

“Tony.” The man gasps, frustrated fingers pulling harshly at his hair, fisting in desperation and oh, how much of a masochist is Tony to love the pain he gives. All the hurt. _All the punches, all the betrayal-_

“You’re fucking with me, Rogers.” He sinks his teeth, seeking and intending to hurt as he moans around the flesh in his mouth. Nipple and hair. Salty taste and the smell of musk heavy, coursing through his olfactory senses, making him almost dizzy with anger as he looks up, glaring at the man who cost him everything.

Rogers' hand is squeezing his ass, one finger slipping between his cleft and Tony knows exactly when he could feel the cum dripping from his hole and he groans, letting go of the red nipple and fisting around the hard shaft in his own hand. “You fucked me over and over, Rogers but you’re not done are you?”

Disappointment lashes at his chest, his heart hammering in contrasting excitement, almost yearning for the pain that Steve Rogers is so good at giving to him.  _All the punches, all the betrayal…_

 

 

“I wish I can hate you, Rogers.” He pants. When the veil of lust has come down, spent and dripping with semen, sweat and a slab of disgust at himself as he clings onto the man collapsed atop him.

He lets his muscle droop, submitting to the heavy lethargy sinking into every single cell in his body. His thighs slip down from the naked hip fused to his own, plop onto the mattress and crumpled white sheet of the dirty motel Rogers booked for the weekend.

His ass is sore and he cringes at parts where he feels the draft on his groin and inner thigh drying proofs of Rogers defiling Tony Stark; of his dignity, his faith and his trust.

 

“I love you, Tony.” He hears.

“I love you. I love- Tony, I love you so-,”

 

God, does his heart hurt. God, does he hope.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers.”

He kisses away the lie from Steve Rogers’ lips.

 


End file.
